Tainted
by Aelyin
Summary: Reno reflects on his job as a Turk, and what he's become.


Ahh, this fic was requested by my good friend, Shimmer. (Who I've finally prodded into joining, Tranquil Wind if you want to look her up) It's a fic thing for her Turks fansite xD.  I was all too happy to oblige ^__^  It's mostly a fic about Reno's feelings over being in the Turks, and other random Reno-ish junk =P  It's set a bit before President Shinra is killed and Rufus takes his place.  Enjoy.

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Reno ran his hand through a mass of spiky red hair, groaning as he finished another can of beer, tossing it off to the side in boredom.  It clanged against a metal leg of a table, making him start, then sink back onto his couch in his Shinra apartment wearily.  Shaking himself to clear his thoughts, he stood up and slowly made his way over to the can, steadying himself on whatever piece of furniture, or a wall.  Bending over, he lost his balance, banging his elbow on the nearby table the can had hit.  A stream of curses issued from his mouth, followed by incoherent muttering as he forcefully threw the can into the trash.

_Yet I can't totally forget everything I do, much as I wish I could._  Though his muscles may not have been under much control, Reno's mind was still sharp and alert, even after drinking countless cans of his 'precious booze'.  He sighed loudly and angrily, pulling himself up by the same table, then making his way over to the sink in the kitchen slowly.  Splashing some cold water onto his face, he bit his lip in growing anger.  _Hah.  There's nothing you can do, Reno.  You're in this for life._  A Turk – for that was what Reno was – could not simply leave the employment of Shinra without a word.  Those who did would be terminated – they knew far too much.  

Rubbing his eyes in an effort to remove the water, he tripped and staggered over to the couch; the moment he was close enough, he collapsed onto it, reaching for the TV remote and turning the news on.  _Sector 7 Plate dropped, they say.  Cause unknown, they report.  Hah.  I know the damn cause all right – just another one of the things a Turk has to do.  _At the grim thought, his slight smirk immediately turned to a dark glare of anger at whatever was in front of him – this time it happened to be a small end table.  Kicking the side of it in fury, it toppled over, along with a few more cans of beer, some empty, and random magazines.  He let them lay there.  Not like he cared anyway.  He wasn't supposed to care – that was his job.  Not caring and taking orders.

 For half a moment, he considered asking Rude the next time he saw him what his take was on the lifestyle of theirs.  Did he care?  Was it 'just a job' to him?  Or would he simply share the opinion of his friend and try to block it out of his life?

Rude was a complicated guy – there was no mistaking that, even if he seemed to have a quiet demeanor.  Sure, he was one to take orders.  He was one to accept what he was told and not question it, verbally at least.  But he thought more than others thought, and Reno's friend – who was about as opposite as possible from himself – had often showed the insolent, defiant Turk this before and after a job, or whenever he felt like it.  There wasn't much you could hide from Rude, which made Reno suspect he already knew his opinion on their work.  _Not like we could do anything about it, anyway.  We take orders, we get paid a lot of money, we get to live in the Shinra executive building.  The President is happy that he doesn't have to do is own dirty work, so he doesn't bother us.  We know too much already to just kick us out, and he knows that.  So the Turks we shall stay.  _

Reaching out for yet another can of beer, which had been lying on the floor, Reno opened it boredly, hoping to drown himself in a drunken stupor.  _It won't work, Reno.  You can hold your liquor by now._   _There's no escaping what you've done to yourself, that's a fact.  You wanted this job – now you're stuck with it._  Taking a drink, he righted the small table and set the can down on it forcefully, causing some of the contents to spill out of it, one landing on the sleeve of his suit jacket.  As the liquid seeped into the fabric, he groaned angrily, assuming it was just another stain he'd half to wash out before his next appearance before the President.

He looked closer, pulling the jacket off and beginning to drop it on the couch, before frowning.  The beer had stained, all right – stained red, a blood red.  He tried to brush it off, but there was a thought lingering in the back of his mind that no amount of beer could ever make him forget. 

_Sins unforgiven, souls tainted by the color of blood, stained red for eternity._

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And so ends the little piece of Reno fluff.  Err, yes, the quote at the end was thought up by Shimmer (and is in the title bar of her soon-coming shrine) about the Turks, so I thought it fitting to add in the end of a fic dedicated/for her and Tainted, her Turks fansite.  Hope you like it, Shimmer, and I hope all my readers (readers?  What readers?) do too.  Review, please?


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